Heart of the Diamond (17 page)

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Authors: Carrie Brock

BOOK: Heart of the Diamond
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“I shall do my best, sir.”

Blake sipped the hot liquid and winced at the bitter taste. “I have some business to attend. In under an hour I shall have several letters for Smith to take with him to London posthaste. Please notify him that he must prepare to leave immediately upon my word.”

“Mr. Smith has been anxious to be on his way, sir. I shall inform him of your instructions at once.”

Once again Chester exited the room and closed the door to leave Blake alone with his thoughts. With a grimace, he raised the cup to his lips and downed the drink all at once. The burning eased almost immediately.

Blake set the cup on the mantle, then moved to the window and drew back the heavy drapes. A stale mustiness filled his nostrils. Perhaps the house needed some redecorating after all. Or at least a good airing.

Weak sunlight filtered in through the paned glass. The wide expanse of lawn leading to the forest that separated his property from the Langleys drew his gaze, but Blake's thoughts again turned to Nicole.

It was through those woods she had traipsed without the slightest reservation. In years past, she must have traveled that same route to reach Teddy. Chester said she had followed him about like a puppy. Such devotion, yet without expectation that the same emotion would be returned.

Blake released the curtain and absently watched the meager light disappear. The thought of Nicole climbing the trellis outside to reach Teddy shot a spark of white-hot anger in him. Bartholomew did not deserve her love, and when Blake and Nicole were married, she would see the folly of her unflagging devotion.

He glanced at his desk to the two folded and sealed missives. One addressed to his solicitor in London, the other to his aunt, Lady Sophia Ransom. If he were thinking clearly, he would tear up both and toss them into the fire.

From across the room they drew him. He lifted the letter to Sophia. She would not expect to hear from him and certainly not by letter containing a request for her assistance. Though she was his father's only sister, they had never had what could be termed a close familial relationship.

In fact, Blake easily recalled listening to shouting matches from his father's library, usually centered on Aunt Sophia's financial difficulties. The Earl of Diamond had little sympathy for what he considered weaknesses in human character and Sophia's husband, Leopold, possessed more than his share. The man had a penchant for investing, gambling, and expensive possessions—though he had no talent for choosing appropriate investments or horses, and heavy losses did not support the lifestyle he and his family enjoyed.

As the head of the family, Sophia expected her brother to contribute to her support as needed. Blake's father had not shared her belief. Still, the Diamond name did mean something and he intervened at the last possible moment, keeping Leopold and Sophia from disgrace. His intervention never came without a price, and Sophia had paid it time and again.

Absently tapping the letter against his palm, Blake sighed. Sophia must have thought her hopes answered when her brother died and Blake had been gone from England without word for years. With Blake's reappearance, her hopes that her son Harry would inherit the title under the desertion clause of her brother's will were soundly dashed. She might even believe Blake would take over his father's practice of withholding money.

Yet he now asked for her help.

Blake tossed the envelope atop the other addressed to his solicitor. After careful thought, he had chosen the best course open to him and he must follow it, no matter how it went against the grain. Having so much to lose, Sophia would not turn him down. His solicitor would be surprised, but then Blake had never been the most circumspect of clients. He supposed everyone would just have to accustom themselves to his new eccentric turn of mind.

After all, how could anyone be the same after coming into contact with Nicole Langley?

Chapter 8
. . .

Nicki eased the door to Mina's bedchamber open. Her gaze moved to the form lying on the white coverlet. Their lives had become curiously similar to a carriage gone out of control, and they careened toward the unknown at an astonishing rate of speed—all due to Nicki's inability to control her own rash impulses. Somehow she had managed to embroil her sister in this predicament.

“What are you hovering in the doorway for, Nicki? Come over here where we can talk. I promise not to do you physical harm.”

Relieved, Nicki hurried to do her sister's bidding. “After the mess I have made of things, I would not blame you a bit if you tried to toss me out the window.”

Mina sat up, motioned for Nicki to join her, and scooted toward the middle of the bed. “That's an extremely good idea, but it would make such a mess and you know how Angelica despises clutter. Besides, the earl might demand my hand in marriage to make up for your loss and I would be right back in the position you nearly had me in this morning.”

“Sometimes I just do not think things out clearly, Mina. Please forgive me?”

“Sometimes? When have you ever thought anything out clearly, sister? I find it a frightening prospect to imagine what goes through your mind at times.” Her expression softened. “Still, you most always mean well and I can't fault you for that. You're forgiven, as if you ever had any doubt!”

Nicki leaned back against the fluffy lace covered cushions and pillows at the head of the bed. “I have certainly got myself into a corner this time. Teddy complicates the situation to no end. The earl continues to insist that he will not release me from this marriage. Only moments ago Teddy roasted me for falling victim to the earl's diabolical schemes. I am so confused, Mina!”

“What confuses you? If you truly want Teddy, I cannot imagine the earl holding you to the marriage. But you must be certain he is what you want, Nicki, and that he wants you.”

“I know you do not care for either of them, but they both have admirable qualities. Teddy is—well, he is Teddy. He is like a windowpane and I can see straight through to his heart. But Blake—one moment he is light and teasing, then the next it is like slipping beneath the ice that covers our pond. I cannot see past the barrier he draws about himself. It frightens me to imagine living the rest of my life with a man who holds so many secrets buried inside.”

“Yet you are intrigued.”

Nicki drew her knees up and clasped her arms about them. She suddenly felt like crying, and had not the faintest notion where the urge came from. “I think he has been hurt deeply, and yes, it intrigues me. Perhaps I want to be the one to thaw the ice. I feel drawn to what I know dwells in the heart of . . . ”

Mina grinned. “The heart of the Diamond?”

“Am I truly crazy, Mina? How can I want two men?”

“Are you so certain you want both? You are loyal to a fault, Nicki, and you've loved Teddy for as long as I can remember. Perhaps it is time to look more closely at your feelings. Only you can decide which way you must go.”

Nicki buried her face in her arms. “But I am to be married to Blake!”

“That's not like you, sister. You've always made your own choices. Look at what drew you to Rosewood the night you became engaged. You went there because you wanted out of a marriage, and you intended to find some way to do that. What happened wasn't what you expected, but it accomplished your goal. If you truly don't want to marry the earl, you'll find a way out."

Nicki was silent.

"But perhaps you don't want out? Only you can decide that, Nicki.”

“If I could be certain Blake could ever care for me . . . ”

Mina put her arm around Nicki and squeezed. “I think if you want Blake, you will not rest until you've won his heart. But first you must decide if you want him. Now that Teddy is here, the decision may be more difficult.”

Nicki rested her head on her sister's shoulder, sighing deeply. “One thing is for certain.”

“What is that?”

“The weeks to come promise to be extremely entertaining.”

Mina giggled. “As long as you keep me in the role of spectator and not participant, I shall enjoy the show.”

“I promise not to make you a scapegoat again. But watch them closely at dinner tonight. If you should decide you want either man, you will let me know? It would make my decision much easier.”

“Nicki!”

“Very well. A spectator you shall be. And I shall remember your unwillingness to assist me if you should ever need my help in the future.”

. . .

Nicki fiddled with her silverware as she listened to Teddy's outrageous account of his voyage from America. His amber eyes absorbed the light from the many beeswax candles positioned in brass holders along the table, and gleamed as brightly as the golden cherub statuette centerpieces.

With his constant smile creating that dimple in his right cheek he was so completely unchanged from the Teddy she had known. Nicki found it easy to step back into the comfortable friendship they had shared before.

Nicki intercepted a sharp glance from her stepmother and laid her fork down next to the spoon. She buried her hands in the soft silk of her gown to keep them occupied more quietly.

The action only reminded her of the pains she had taken with her appearance. Pearl earbobs that had once belonged to her mother pinched her earlobes, which were charmingly displayed by her upswept coiffure. Her golden curls tumbled in careful disarray down her neck and back, several slipping over one shoulder. Lucy had outdone herself, impressing even Nicki, who usually had no patience with such frippery.

She only hoped she did not look a mess by the time Blake arrived. Somehow, she knew something would be amiss. Already a strand of hair had slipped free and tickled her cheek.

So why did she feel a jolt of surprise when she caught Teddy's gaze on her with something more than comradely affection sparking in their depths? For as long as she could remember, she had expected to marry Teddy Bartholomew, had promised she would never love another. She should be ecstatic that he seemed attracted to the woman she had become.

It was all Blake's fault. If he had not interfered with her life, she could have been more thrilled with Teddy's presence at Langley Hall. She still could be. If only she could think of some way to set matters to rights.

Her gaze wandered down the white lace cloth that covered the table, over the silver plates and platters to the empty seat at Teddy's side. Why had Blake declined to come to dinner when his parting words to her this afternoon had seemed to communicate his willingness to enter the battle to keep her as his intended? Backing down from his first opportunity to enter the foray showed a much different frame of mind.

Not that she wanted Teddy and Blake at each other's throats.

Looking up, Nicki caught Teddy's stare locked on her once again. She reached for her crystal goblet of red wine and took a quick sip. Her appearance had affected one person, but she would have liked it much better if he would not behave as though she was the main course after a fast. She wanted him to be the same Teddy she knew when she was younger.

“America would suit you, Nick. I know we've always thought the colonies somewhat barbaric, but there's a vitality in the very air that stirs the blood. I think even cynical Blake enjoyed his stay there.”

Ignoring the reference to the subject of her thoughts, Nicki leaned forward slightly. “Will you return to America, Teddy?”

He smiled sadly. “Several months ago I thought England lost to me forever. Now—perhaps I shall find a way to stay.”

Nicki longed to recall her careless words. Of course he thought England lost to him. At this very moment, a stranger lived in his ancestral home.

“I hope you will stay. We have all missed you.”

Her father cleared his throat. “Ladies, I believe Ted and me will retire to the study for a bit. Blake should be here shortly.”

Angelica took her cue. “Of course, gentlemen. Mina, Nicole, we should freshen up a bit. We will await you in the music salon, Jonathon. You will not keep us waiting long?”

As Nicki started to rise, Teddy reached across the table to take her hand. Startled by his action she stumbled, then recovered and met his unwavering gaze.

“I have already kept you waiting too long.”

His whispered words careened through Nicki's mind.

Before she could think, she snatched her hand away. Instantly, she was contrite. Whatever was the matter with her? She cast a furtive glance at her family to ensure they had not witnessed the spectacle.

Mina winked, the scamp. Nicki managed a weak smile in Teddy's direction before bolting from the room.

What had she gotten herself into?

Good Heavens, the evening had only just begun.

. . .

Blake paused with his clenched fist inches from the swirls and leaves carved into the front door of Langley Hall. What was he doing? Entering the home of a family, Billington's family, with the harshness of hatred burning in his heart like the lanterns lighting the threshold upon which he now stood.

The eyes of the signet ring on his index finger sparked, reminding him of his father's unwavering strength in the face of sentimental foolishness—and lending him fortitude.

He had set a course. The anger inside of him would continue to fester and bleed like an uncauterized wound. Until his revenge was complete he would never be healed. He had landed crippling blows to Billington's and Bartholomew's finances. Now to deal them their final hands—the losing hands that would cost them emotionally. Then the wound would finally be cauterized. At last.

Before Blake could rap his knuckles against the wood, the door swung inward and the skeletal butler stood expectantly in the opening. Simms. That was his name.

“I apologize, my lord, but the footman should have escorted you to the door,” Simms said through thin lips held as stiffly as his posture.

As the man bowed at the waist, Blake stepped into the foyer illuminated in coruscating light by the dozens of candles amidst the prisms of the chandelier.

“The footman did not know I had arrived as I did not take my carriage around to the courtyard. I do not intend to stay long.”

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